Thursday is now Darcy's day
by seriousish
Summary: Jane always knew she'd end up having a drunken threesome with Darcy and Thor. It was kind of inevitable.
1. Chapter 1

"Come on, you guys! Keep up!" Darcy yelled back at Thor and Jane, who were walking with hands in each others' back pockets, figuratively speaking. Jane wasn't sure she had back pockets, so maybe Thor was just grabbing her ass. She was definitely grabbing his. "Guys! Come! On! You're gonna love this!"

"Slow down!" Jane countered. Her words were slurring. It wasn't fair. Darcy had drunken twice as much as she had and she appeared completely fine (the girl had sorority girl genes, Jane knew it, even if she had never pledged), while Jane felt really warm and kinda horny and was worried that any moment she'd admit she'd voted for John McCain.

Darcy got to their mobile home away from home, generously furnished by SHIELD with such luxuries as air conditioning, beds, and wi-fi. She slapped the door as if she didn't have her own key. "Cooooome on! My thing, the thing I want to show you, right inside! Yay!" She did a little jump. Apparently mai tais took her from grad student to cheerleader.

"This better be worth it," Jane advised her, in her capacity of senior scientist person, as she took her key out. She couldn't quite get it in the lock, but Thor got it for her. Thor, the gentleman, who'd drunken more than both of them put together and was barely off-balance. Even that much was a credit to American beer. Eat it, Germans.

"M'lady," Thor said, getting the door for her, then let out something that might be considered a giggle from anyone other than a Thunder God.

Darcy dashed inside. She did a drunken circuit of the room, running down a mental checklist before she could forget, unplugging the phone, powering down the computer, covering the windows, bumping into Thor, and locking the door.

Jane leaned against Thor. He was nice and solid and not going anywhere, even if the room kinda spun. Just perfect. "What'd you want to show us, Darcy?"

Darcy faced them. "Check it!" She pulled off her shirt with ease that had to come with practice. The bra hugged her curves like a really good car hugged a road… Jane had lost track of that metaphor. "I got this bra online!" Then she wiggled out of her jeans. Maybe she didn't have as much practice at that; Thor had to steady her so she didn't tip over. "And check the bootylicious panties!"

They did do a good job of highlighting Darcy's ass, climbing up the curve of her buttocks like they were apparently supposed to, and leaving the untanned bottom area bare, so there was definitely a lot going on there. Jane hiccupped. That seemed to get Darcy's attention. She strutted up to her stunned boss, a predatory look in her eyes. And she was chewing her lip, which she only did when she was feeling predatory.

"Look, club lesbians," Darcy said, grabbing Jane for a kiss.

Jane was a bit overwhelmed. They were reeling backward as Darcy attacked her mouth and Darcy had her arms wrapped around Jane and the warm stomachy sensation that Jane had felt migrated, zipping about her body before settling at her crotch, or maybe that was Darcy's fingers, and they collapsed on a couch, shitty government furniture but Jane couldn't even feel the lumps when Darcy was on top of her, all curves and expensive underwear and still kissing her.

Jane was trying to figure out what to do with her hands that wasn't unhooking Darcy's bra, but when they landed on Darcy's ass, that seemed as good a place for them as any. And Jane had never regretted being a size four or her exercise regiment or owing exactly three bras because she only had to wear one if she wanted to, but if she had an ass like that, she would've spent all day touching it.

"Darcy…" Darcy was kissing her neck, and thank God it was scarf weather, because Darcy was leaving hickies like she was trying to spell her name on Jane, middle initial and all. "Darcy! Not in front of the extraterrestrial! This isn't like a quickie back at the RV."

"Uh, duh, back then I wore crap Wal-Mart undies because I didn't have an awesome overinflated-defense-budget salary?" Darcy broke off laughing, smiling and kissing Jane with a little more affection than passion. "Hey, this isn't Fatal Attraction, relax-o. I get it, you and Thor are doing the whole 'swans mate for life' thing. But you cannot date Sir Manmeat and keep him all to yourself. Uh-uh. That is not sisterhood, that is… bad feminism!"

"Well, I mean, Thor, what do you thin—" Jane looked over at him. He was naked and clearly up for it. Jane wondered what is was about Asgardian clothes that made them so easy to get out of.

"You are ever the maiden of my heart, Jane Foster, but if you wish it, I would be happy to grant our faithful friend a boon. A fitting cap to our jubilations!"

Darcy giggled and kissed Jane some more. "Dude. It's a fitting cap. C'mon."

Jane's head was spinning and she was trying to think of it in terms of which she'd regret more, doing this or not doing this, and if this technically made her a dirty old professor who slept with her students—did that count if she didn't have tenure? Then Darcy did something that felt absolutely filthy to her eardrum and Jane decided when in Asgard, even if they were really just on temporary Asgardian embassy soil.

"Yes!" Darcy fist-pumped, sensing the sea change in Jane. "Oh, you're awesome, I thought I'd have to bribe you and pick up your lattes for a month or something."

"That was on the table?" Jane pouted. She hated driving five miles for a Starbucks, seriously, what kind of town had more churches than it did Starbucks?

"Bitch, be content with my fine ass!" Darcy shook it at her and Jane was very content.

Then all of Darcy's attention was on Thor. She went to him on her hands and knees, the motion doing some amazing things to her ass for Jane's benefit, and he lightly stroked himself to readiness as she approached. Darcy licked her lips, staring like a dog under the dinner table, then breaking into a wide grin at the sight of precum bubbling up to greet her. Earth, Asgard, these bitches were all over her.

"When on exciting Earth—" Darcy started in a cheesy radio announcer voice, rearing up to kiss Thor's abs like she'd wanted to since about one second after she'd seen them, the first second spent worrying that she could cut her tongue on those lines. "Be sure to let the friendly natives make you feel right at home, with their local refreshments and slutty third-wave-feminist ways!"

"Darcy—" Thor groaned, biting his tongue to keep from saying something un-royal.

Darcy was disappointed he'd run out of Shakespeare lines. "Missus Darcy if you're nasty," she said, which didn't make any sense, but making sense seemed a distant second to having Thor's cock in her cleavage. She got both hands around it—steel-hard, thick as pipe, throbbing—and babbled as she kissed at it. "I lifted your hammer. Does this mean I'm worthy of your power?"

"Almost certainly," Thor moaned, now running his callused fingers over Darcy's scalp, tossing her hair over her face.

Jane occupied herself finding new places to touch herself. In her drunken haze, and masturbatory excitement, it took a while. She started off just fingering herself, then came up with touching her clit, then thought of fondling her breasts, which she had to take her shirt off to do. She fell off the couch, but became topless. By then, Darcy had covered Little Mjolnir in saliva and gotten it hard enough to hang clothes from. Jane shimmied her pants down her hips and fucking loved herself.

Darcy kissed Thor's manhood—godhood?—in some more places, of which there were many, a bit disappointed that he tasted a lot like this frat guy she knew back home, this musky flavor that struck her as a very effective advertisement for bourbon for some reason. She tried to figure out how she would fit him in her mouth, as figuratively big as Jane told her it was, since he was a bit more god-like in that aspect than he even was at smiting people. And he was getting bigger, pleased with how she made out with that vein running through his length, which was a kind of god-pleasing they never had covered in Sunday school.

She finally decided, fuck it—again, since that'd been her call when she'd pulled her two lovahs away from a jukebox playing fucking Styx—and to just take it in her mouth and believe in herself.

She didn't get it all in—despite biased reports, she wasn't 'fun' enough to deep-throat—but she deeply enjoyed trying.

Jane was feeling something entirely new. Not that she was a stranger to masturbation, but it was usually a relaxed affair where she rubbed herself through her panties and imagined Viggo Mortensen rubbing suntan lotion on her. This was fast and jerking and that was before it occurred to her to touch that strangely sensitive spot deep inside herself, the one Thor had seemed to hit with every thrust during their last meeting.

By then, Darcy had six inches in her mouth and more on the way. Jane heard her gag and it was such a fucking sweet sound. She hammered her fingers into herself, biting her lip so hard, her hips jumping against her hand like there was a real man there, embarrassingly high-pitched noises emitting from her throat, and then suddenly there she was, with what felt like a river pouring out of her. She'd come.

It wasn't nearly enough. Those soothing-Viggo-Mortensen-suntan-lotion sessions, they'd relax her for hours, but this orgasm—pleasant as it was—simply left her craving more. She wondered desperately when Darcy would be done; was she actually going to test the stamina of the Avenger who'd fought an entire alien army without breaking a sweat? Then she remembered it was a threesome and there was no reason for her to wait.

Getting up, Jane pulled off what was left of her clothes at less-than-dignified speed. Not that either of them noticed her wrestling her clothes off. That was one advantage of a threesome; no one paid attention to you while you were taking off your socks.

Jane thought of getting down on her knees and worshipping (pun! her mind registered) Thor with Darcy, but then, no, no way she was going to open up comparisons between her and a college kid. She didn't even eat bananas the same way. She broke them into chunks with her fingers and ate them piecemeal.

Darcy moaned as she managed to get another inch into her gullet; Jane realized she was hesitating. What was the point of being cautious at a Roman orgy (or Viking orgy, whatever)? Not letting herself think, she strode forward and planted one on Thor. She took him by surprise, but only for a second. Then he was kissing her back, hard, his thick arms wrapping around her. A wild thought occurred to her and she didn't think twice. Breaking away from Thor, she took her fingers—still wet from being inside herself—and rubbed them over Thor's lips.

"MMMMMMMM!" Darcy went as Thor swelled in her mouth. Jane grabbed her by the crown and eased her head back; she whimpered like a kitten having its milk taken away. So Jane pushed her back onto Thor's cock and kinda liked the way Darcy just… took him in. And Thor quaffed her fingers like it was another treat on a banquet table, sucking her juices away hard and fast before finishing by giving her hand a teasingly polite kiss. Jane bobbed Darcy's head on his cock a little faster.

"It's time," Thor proclaimed, suitably dramatic for riding into battle or throwing a hammer somewhere, less so for coitus. He pulled Jane to his chest and gently, with one finger, pushed Darcy off his manhood. She gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, but he only had eyes for Jane, and when his cock popped out of Darcy's lips, it sprang up to Jane's belly.

"Oh, God…" Jane muttered. It was so sticky and so warm on her skin. Exactly what she imagined sex would feel like if she could touch it.

"I prefer the name of Thor."

"That joke's so not funny anymore."

"I thought it was funny," Darcy said, kissing Thor's ass even as she, well, kissed Jane's ass.

Patience wasn't Thor's strong suit. He hoisted Jane up with one hand, the other following Darcy's lead in experiencing the awe and wonder of Jane's ass, and kissed her like a berserker, going after her lips in the same breath as her cheek and ear and neck and breasts. His beard tickled her skin, full and oddly soft. She didn't know how she could go back to clean-shaven guys after this, their skin all rough, not nearly as smooth as advertised, as smooth as Darcy for instance. It seemed like such a half-measure.

Thor left the anal groping to Darcy to fumble with his cock, trapped between their bodies, then his hand landed firmly on Jane's thigh and squeezed. "Thank you, Darcy," he said regally, and Jane looked down to see that Darcy was guiding him inside her. It struck her, or struck drunk her, as funny enough to laugh before Darcy's efforts paid off and all Jane could do was moan. Loud.

If you'd asked her later, Jane would've admitted to being a very selfish lover in that moment. She just leaned back against the arm Thor had around her, using it like the bar on a roller coaster as he just bounced her up and down on his cock, sending her flying with just the motion of his hips. She supposed she could've rubbed her tits in his face, or kissed him, or at least come up with some dirty talk, but she was moaning pretty heavily—not that she had much choice—so she was content with just being fucked. Let Darcy be the one who was good at sex. She was an astrophysicist.

In fact, this was a great example of delegation. While she laid back and thought of Thor having his way with her, Darcy filled in on the sex front, kneeling under them and licking at their genitals like a melting ice cream cone. It was like Jane was being double-teamed. First, Darcy would do something Jane would undoubtedly cringe at with Thor's balls, sending him into her harder and faster than ever, then Darcy would pull away and things would relax, Jane sinking down on his manhood and letting it rock inside her as Darcy's tongue described her sex in intimate detail.

In just a few seconds, Darcy had her lips on Jane's clit—how could she be so good at finding that and so bad at citing papers?—and Jane felt herself go off again. She was a horrible feminist, she knew, but as empowering as a vibrator or her fingers were, Thor just felt so much better.

"I'm done, I'm done—" Jane breathed, and Thor stopped holding back. He grabbed her by the hips and worked her over his cock like he was trying to break her against his body. Jane's eyes rolled back in her head; she had another orgasm, almost painful in its intensity, as Thor reached his culmination. He jerked out his hand, palm open, and Mjolnir flew into it from under a pile of Jane's clothes (oops).

"For Asgard! For the lady Jane!" he roared as electricity came off the hammer in jagged lines, filling the room and sending tingly feelings through everyone present and, to a lesser extent, everyone in the tri county area. Jane felt him explode within her; there wasn't a 'Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex' problem, as they'd found out with some very creative experimenting, but his ejaculations did pack a whallop. Darcy marveled as Jane was pushed up his shaft, in danger of slipping off if it weren't for Thor holding her tight, and his cum overflowing from her well-used cunt. Darcy stuck out her tongue and caught some like snowflakes on Christmas morning.

Finished, Thor dropped Mjolnir with a distinctly thundering sound. Jane moaned once more for old time's sake and slid back down him, almost coming again as he nestled inside her. She slumped against his chest like she'd had eight Appletinis instead of three and promptly hugged Thor, patting him on the back for good measure.

"Finally," Darcy said, cleaning some Asgardian man-jam off her glasses, "a sex act Urban Dictionary hasn't heard of."

With his free hand, Thor picked up Darcy by the waistband of her panties and carried all three of them to the bed, which Jane just realized Darcy had an ulterior motive for insisting was king-sized, beyond "making sure these Reagan-era freaks don't nickel and dime you."

Darcy was dropped on her face and moaned appreciatively into her pillow, while Jane was lowered down gracefully, Thor not slipping out of her until the last possible moment. She actually whimpered at the withdrawal—it was hard to give up being that loved, that full. And finally, Thor dropped down between them, arms spread like he was sunning himself, or inviting some wench to drop her head on his broad chest. Jane applied for the position.

"Come on, Darcy, as long as we're doing a Viking threesome, let's go all the way and beach ourselves on his manly chest like a Fabio painting." Jane helpfully undid Darcy's bra for her as she asked. Darcy sighed in relief at having it off. A bra good enough to handle her puppies didn't leave much mercy in other departments.

"No thanks, I think I swallowed when I should've spat. Kinda disagreeing with me. I'm gonna have to steer clear of future boyfriends with all-meat diets."

"I eat potatoes," Thor insisted.

"In mythology, semen is considered to have mystical properties," Jane reasoned.

"All I know is it kinda tastes like Four Loko and it packs more of a punch than Bud Light. Consider this weekend lost. I'm gonna pass out now. No one cuddle me, I don't like being touched when orgasms aren't involved."

* * *

Darcy woke up with no hangover, which was good, because otherwise the ringing phone would've killed her (SHIELD phones had a ringtone that could murder college students). She guessed she could thank Thor for that. A god with semen that doubled as a hangover cure. Best boyfriend ever.

Darcy picked up the phone; had Jane plugged that back in after she'd gone into a post-lady-sex coma? It was Natasha. "I can keep the ambient sensors disabled for another fifteen minutes, but after that, you can explain to SHIELD yourself why you're walk of shaming away from Thor Odinson. By the way, next time you're having a threesome, call me."

Natasha hung up before Darcy could agree, ask if that would require her firstborn son, or maybe bargain for shower time with Hawkeye as part of the deal. So, she looked around. Jane was gone, and had considerately hung up Darcy's clothes for her to put back on. She was a pretty awesome girlfriend. Darcy had to find out if she had a sister. Or a brother. Or cousins.

But first, fifteen minutes. That was a lot of 'worship time,' given that Thor would probably be fucking off to avenge shit soon and who knew when she'd be able to pry the lovebirds apart long enough for there to be a Darcy sandwich. She pulled the sheet away from Thor, who may have been all good-natured now but still hogged them, and found a Post-It right on his pecs. Jane had known exactly where she'd look.

Darcy, it said, I had to go do boring science stuff after you rocked my world. Please do not have any fun while I'm gone. P.S. your ass looked awesome last night. P.P.S. I'm really sorry you didn't actually get off during our sordid sex games, please have a quickie with Thor, that guy has more morning wood than a national park.

Darcy paraphrased a little. Wadding the note up and tossing it over her shoulder, she leaned down to kiss one of Thor's nipples. The guy had, like, no hair on his chest. It was kinda amazing. She sucked hard, already knowing how much he liked her mouth, and walked her fingers down his chest.

He was making noise in his sleep, sort of a half-growl, but it wasn't until she ran her fingers over his cock like she was checking for dust that he woke up. She kissed his chest some more, watched him open his eyes under some epic bedhead, and then he smiled at her.

"Not that your company is anything but welcome, but where's Jane?"

"Science stuff," Darcy said.

"Boring?"

"Very. And you never actually traveled my Bifrost."

His brow furrowed at that. "Do you mean your quim?"

The word lit up her brain. "Absolutely."

Throwing a leg over him, she took his cock in hand and lowered herself onto it slowly, enjoying the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each teasing swipe of her 'quim' against his helmet.

"Oh Thor," she said reverently, "Who art in bed/Hallowed be thy bod/Thy penis come/Thy will be done/In my pussy as it was in my mouth."

His eyes rolled back in his head as she brought herself down on him. Darcy had a similar reaction, having to brace herself with her arms to keep from just flopping on to him and asking very nicely if he could move his hips for her. Christ, after this, she had no excuse to not try fisting.

"I have to go in ten minutes," Darcy said. "Until then, you can fuck me like you paid for it."

He rolled her over and set about doing just that. It didn't even take ten seconds for Darcy to decide they were going to miss the Black Widow's time limit. Some things were worth having to explain to SHIELD.


	2. Chapter 2

"The safe word is carrots," Natasha told Jane, once they were all alone.

"What?"

"Carrots. If you want to stop; carrots. Nod if you understand."

Jane nodded.

"Good."

Reaching up to her throat, Natasha undid the button that held her black collar shut. She opened up the flap of leather and under it was a shining metal zipper. Jane felt herself getting dizzy. She knew it wasn't much; usually Natasha walked around with the zipper undone to the collarbone just so she could breathe, and it'd actually been commented on for her to spend the morning with her costume done up to her neck. But Natasha was just so beautiful, all hard-edged perfection that any slight reveal made Jane feel like—what was the SHIELD term?—she'd been compromised.

"I've noticed you watching me," Natasha said, her tone mellow and even while she pulled the zipper slowly down. "Staring at me. Even the macho pigs here know better than to leer at me. But you're a civilian. You don't know any better."

"No, I mean, sorry…"

"Is that it, Jane? You don't know any better?" Her zipper had reached her breasts. It danced between them, and inside was all creamy flesh and wicked curves. "Or is it that you're a slut?"

"I, uh, never really thought about it…"

The zipper was done to Natasha's belt. Natasha kept speaking in a calm, relaxed monotone as her hands trailed back up her body. "I have. In my line of work, you need to get a good read on people. You need to know what they're thinking. You think about cunt, Jane. You think about cock."

"Doesn't everyone?"

Natasha pulled on one side of her costume. It didn't move like a paramilitary uniform. It moved like silk, flowing over her body until her left breast was in view, everything about it breathtaking. The way it stood high and proud, sloping to a vividly pink nipple that was big but not too big, the perfect cap for a perfect breast.

"Everyone doesn't work for SHIELD, Jane. I need to know that you can do your job. I need to know that you can follow orders. Kiss it."

"What?"

Natasha glared at her, annoyed. "I show you my breast and my nipple is hard, what do you think I want you to do with it? You're supposed to be smart, Dr. Foster. My life may depend on you being smart and here you are, gaping like a fish out of water."

"Oh, I… sorry."

"Don't apologize, fix it. Even a slut can have her uses, so long as she's not totally repressed."

With that encouragement in mind, Jane leaned down to Natasha's breast. Up close, it was even more unbelievable, seeming to float with every breath Natasha took. Jane brought up her hands to hold it, but couldn't bring herself to touch. Her fingers hovered there as she kissed the skin directly above the teat. Natasha's breath hitched in disapproval. Knowing she had displeased her, Jane moved lower, lightly kissing the flesh itself, always careful not to offend. Then she reached the nipple and it was just begging to be sucked. Jane took it into her mouth and swished it around her tongue, and for the first time heard Natasha make an involuntary sound, something like pleasure.

"I said kiss it, not suck it," Natasha breathed.

"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"This is what comes from hiring sluts."

"I think you're right, Natasha." Jane laid her hand on the skin Natasha exposed, half-expecting it to end up broken off. When nothing happened, she moved it right, under the leather. "I think I am a slut." To Natasha's other breast. It felt warm and soft under cool, hard leather. She squeezed with her hand and sucked with her mouth.

Jane didn't know how long she spent feeling Natasha and tasting her, but she didn't even notice Thor approaching her until his familiarly callused hands were running over her body. Jane shuddered, clinging to Natasha as he squeezed her in just the right spots.

"Hey Thor," she said, turning back to him for a kiss. "I'm a slut."

"A filthy slut," Natasha added helpfully, tugging on Jane's hair. "She needs her clothes ripped off now."

"I believe I can oblige."

Jane gasped and panted, almost feeling faint, as Thor literally tore the clothes from her body, pants in one hand and blouse in the other, Natasha holding her still for it. In a heartbeat, Jane was left exposed for Thor, Natasha, and however many spy-cameras SHIELD had in the room. _Fuck 'em, _Jane thought. _Hope you enjoy the show._

Thor kissed her and Natasha in turn, almost politely, before placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder and an arm around Jane's back to lower them both to the floor along with himself. Natasha and Jane ended up side by side, with Thor holding himself above Jane. He petted her face and hair as he kissed her, his large hands running lower over her body, like the tide going out, lapping at her neck and shoulders and chest. Jane arced her back as Natasha reached over and slipped a gloved hand between her legs, the cool leather so different from Thor's warm hands.

Jane soon found herself moaning uncontrollably, Natasha's hand efficiently at work on her sex, Thor passionately kissing her, seeming to feed on everything she gave him. Jane could feel herself getting closer, closer, her orgasm just within reach.

"Aren't we forgetting something?" Natasha asked, slowing her fingers to just a bored stroke of Jane's labia.

Jane felt her orgasm fading. She threw herself up against Thor, shoving her lips to his before drawing his face to her breasts, reaching down to rub furiously at her clit. But somehow, Natasha's solitary stirring of her cunt was just enough to distract her, to keep the climax at bay.

Without ever halting his feast on her breasts, Thor drew Mjolnir, reversed it in his hand, and planted it between Natasha's legs so the head was on the floor and the shaft laid against Natasha's sex, aimed up at her face. Natasha looked down at it with a priceless expression. Then Mjolnir started to vibrate.

Natasha shuddered in tune with it, but otherwise kept a neutral expression. Only the brisk smile that parted her lips every so often gave away the pleasure she was feeling. "I was referring to Jane," Natasha said, stifling a moan, "the slut."

Hearing Mjolnir's rumble and the little breathy gasps that Natasha worked so hard to conceal, Jane was again closing in on her precious orgasm. She had her legs wrapped around Thor, humping his armor as her fingers worked on opening his codpiece. She could feel him throbbing just inside it. Being fingered wasn't enough now. She wanted him inside her.

"Natasha tells it true." Thor grinned boldly. "You are a slattern."

Natasha's eyes were trying desperately to roll back in her head. "And slatterns like it up the ass. It's science."

Before Jane could protest that it was not, in fact, science, Thor was rolling her over so she was on top of Natasha, and the hammer. Natasha immediately locked her arms around Jane, pulling her close so the shaft was sandwiched between them. Jane was instantly overwhelmed. Just feeling Natasha's body against hers, sweaty, hot, and gorgeously curved, was too much. But feeling the hammer against her sex—a thousand fingers rubbing at her crotch—she had no idea how Natasha wasn't screaming her head off.

Natasha was, however, trying to wipe an airy smile off her face, letting out little coos that she tried desperately to crush between her gritted teeth. Jane had always suspected Natasha was a bit of a dominatrix, even though she'd had no real reason to think that. She just seemed way too comfortable in a leather catsuit.

Jane's weight on the hammer driving it, and its magical vibrations, deeper into her sex, Natasha finally just laid her head back and closed her eyes. She surrendered to the orgasm that had been pressed up against her for what seemed like hours. And she was planning on taking it peacefully, just another serene bit of business, except that Jane saw what she was doing and kissed her full on the mouth, fingers closed on her breast. It was too much, and Natasha moaned embarrassingly into Jane's tongue.

Jane giggled a bit as Natasha sat up, the motion only drawing the immovable hammer tighter to her crotch, letting its vibrations deeper into her. She gasped with pained intensity, lying back down to reduce the vibes to a more soothing level. And shooting Jane a bit of a death-glare for the smile on her face.

Natasha reached into her belt and brought out two vials. "Lubricant," she said, tossing one to Thor, who had watched patiently, quite enjoying the Midgard sport. Sex was common on Asgard, but far more private. "You know where it goes?"

"Aye," Thor said, upending the vial on his manhood. Jane looked back to enjoy the show and missed Natasha filling her own hand. Her first clue was Natasha's hands, leather hot with self-warming lube, slapping down on her ass.

Jane felt butterflies un-cocoon in her stomach as Natasha massaged her ass, giving Jane a few moments to get used to the idea before rimming Jane's hole. Jane hadn't used her ass for anything but the obvious since Don Blake (part of the reason they broke up; he pounded more ass than Liberace). And now, just Natasha's slim fingers seemed an enormous thing to have up there, let alone _Thor._

Natasha, the master interrogator, must've sensed her unease. She lowered her voice and tapered off her touch, just running her finger over Jane like she was making music on a half-full glass. "This is gonna hurt a bit, but then it'll feel so good…"

She felt Thor, impossibly hard and unbelievably big, _thump_ against her skin. Hand on his cock, he ran it over her slit, teased her ass, even brought it low enough for Natasha to feel. The assassin's poker face betrayed a touch of lust that the hammer capitalized on; like a crack in a dam, she quickly felt pleasure throbbing all through her body. She moaned again, shamelessly this time.

And while Jane delighted in what she was partially responsible for, Thor bore down on the resistance of her ass, its clenched tightness that pitifully tried to block him. Jane's legs coiled around Natasha's, her hips trying to escape the great force stretching her anus.

Natasha stroked Jane with two fingers, covering all of Jane's labia with her glove leather. "Focus on my fingers. I know it hurts, but my fingers don't hurt. My fingers are doing such nice things to you, Jane." And as she said it, she undulated her body against Jane, against the deliciously buzzing hammer between them, forcing Jane up to meet Thor's determined stroke.

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh shit…" Jane said in a haze. She wished Darcy were here. Darcy had probably had anal sex a dozen times. She probably kept lube in her purse. She probably had some beads up there right now. "Let me get on my knees!"

Thor paused, his cock still heavy inside Jane as she got up on her hands and knees. With a heady sense of dread and anticipation, she felt his hands slap into place on her hips. Then, laughter booming from his mouth, he began pumping into her, each thrust throwing Jane back and forth over Natasha like she was grinding on the Russian. Jane finally dropped her head down, sinking her teeth into the collar of Natasha's leather uniform. She held onto it like a pitbull as Thor exploded into her.

Natasha added to the chaos, throwing her legs up around Jane's waist to hold her in place even as she acrobatically reached down to finger Jane's slit. Jane's eyes shut, her breaths coming in pinched howls through her makeshift gag. She only got a deep breath when she climaxed, Natasha rubbing her clit between her fingers like a lucky coin. Her jaw went slack, Thor went still buried inside her, and Jane sucked in air that tasted of sweat and sex and perfume. Thor signed the deal with a resounding slap on Jane's rump, the scientist tittering at the gesture.

"Again," Natasha said, stroking Jane with one finger again.

Thor had to hold off even as his cock stirred inside Jane. "You're sure?"

"She's only come once. We're all going to come. A lot more."

"Do it," Jane begged, trying to please both her lovers. "Cram my ass with cock! Fuck my ass!"

Natasha grinned, pleased with Jane's try-hard skankiness. "Are you my slut?" she asked, dipping her fingers to Jane's core. "My little Yankee slut?"

"Yes, yes…" Jane cooed as Natasha petted her hair with her other hand, clinically, toyingly, knowing exactly how good it felt.

"But doesn't Thor have his dick in you?" Natasha asked, now grabbing Jane's hair and pulling. "How are you not Thor's slut?"

Jane had Thor fucking her ass and the Black Widow fingering her. "I'm the Avengers' slut."

"Oh?" Natasha added more fingers. Jane's sex was no longer a respite from the pained pleasure of Thor's cock in her ass, it was another mixed blessing, hurting and helping as it was stretched hard and stretched fast. "Would you get down on your knees and suck off Nick Fury? Would you let Maria Hill fuck you with a strap-on? What about Hawkeye, he could use a good fuck. Could he ram you against the wall and have his way with you? He's so good at that, Jane." Natasha pulled out, giving Jane a second of relief before she started smacking Jane's pussy with the flat of her hand, actually making her bark out her pleasure like she was under hypnosis. "And Tony? Pepper? You know they're into some kinky shit. Can Pepper smack your ass with a hairbrush while Tony gets a footjob from you?"

"Yes! Yes!" Jane screamed between Natasha's ministrations. "Anything! Just so long as it feels this good!"

Natasha dug her fingers into Jane's sex, almost hard enough to hurt, the leather reaching deep up inside Jane—"Come. Come for me, come for Thor. Come and it'll feel so much better, I promise…"

Jane felt herself go, Natasha cooing to her, alternating between Russian and English, something that sounded like a nursery rhyme. She actually blanked out for a moment, or she didn't know how long, and when she came back to herself she could feel that smooth leather on her ass, holding her loins tightly against Natasha's, the hammer pushing pleasure into both of them. She looked into Natasha's eyes and saw a carnal satisfaction, a look of the cat that got the cream. Then Jane reached down and felt Natasha's sex. It was burning up. All she had to do was wiggle her finger and Natasha's head dropped to the right, yelping something in Russian that needed no translation.

For a long time after that—Jane was pretty sure Thor had pulled out of her, though he'd considerately fallen to the side of them so the pretty ladies wouldn't be crushed by his bulk—she felt nothing but an aching openness below the waist and a general, giddy sleepiness. Natasha held onto her, not so much cuddling her as clutching her possessively, and Jane was so well-fucked that even all that sleek leather and deadly flesh felt comfortable. Years, half-lives, careers later she felt ever-so-slightly compelled to move by hearing Darcy's voice.

"What'd I miss?" Darcy asked, dropping a bundle of papers to the floor (and, thankfully, shutting the door behind her. So practical, that Darcy).

Natasha spoke. She sounded a little spaced out, which meant she was so dazed she might as well have a concussion. "I think I'm a pagan now."

Thor let out something that sounded like a giggle that'd been run through one of those Darth Vader vocalizers.

Darcy, for her part, hopped up and down as she took off her shoes. Those had to come off before she could take off her leggings. "Nobody move! I am going to lick everything off of everyone."


End file.
